The Soul of a Dragon
by antiviancrows
Summary: Athena wakes up in the back of an executioner's wagon, survives a dragon attack, and carves out a home while saving the world. (Rated M for violence. First book in 'The Far Corners of Home' series.)
1. Chapter 1

When I woke up, my head was pounding like I had a wicked hangover. I was on a wagon, a moving wagon, and for a moment I was completely disoriented. I opened my eyes, and noticed the rags I was wearing, and that's when I remembered. I had been coming across the border of Skyrim, when I had walked directly into a skirmish. The winning side had taken me as a prisoner, and sometime while I had been unconscious, they had taken off the warm clothes I'd been wearing, and dressed me in the rags. I looked up, my vision blurring for one terrible second as my stomach threatened to empty itself, and noticed that the cart I was in had three other people, all men. "Hey, you, you're finally awake," says the one sitting directly across from me. He's muscular and blonde, with fair skin and pretty blue eyes, and he must be a Nord. He was also wearing Stormcloak colors. I felt even sicker, then. What had I gotten myself into?

"You were trying to cross the border, right?" he asks, snapping me back to the present. "Yes, I was," I answer warily. My mother had been a Breton, and we had lived a meager but peaceful life in High Rock, until I had decided that I wanted to see than land my father was from. Mother, knowing she couldn't stop me, sent me on my way with a kiss and three the warmest clothes she could afford, as well as enough rations to last for six months. Even the rebellion couldn't stop me, I'd thought, but sitting in this wagon in the chilly air, I realized that the rebellion was very much stopping me.

Next to the blonde man in front of me is a dark-haired, dusky-skinned man wearing rags just like mine. Beside me is another Nord, also blonde, with nicer clothes than anyone on this cart had a right to. He turned to look at me, something in his eyes that I couldn't quite read, and I noticed the gag in his mouth. This must be Ulfric Stormcloak himself. "You must have walked right into that ambush. Same as us, and this thief over here," the first man says, and I turn my attention back to him. "From what I can remember, that was exactly what happened. I tried to stay out of the fighting, but I somehow still ended up on this cart," I say softly. "It's their damn fault," muttered the thief, "before the Stormcloaks came along, the Empire was nice and lazy. I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell, if it weren't for your damned rebellion."

The blonde man in front of me snorts. "We're all brothers and sisters in bonds now," he retorts, and I find myself liking this man. I'd never met many Nords back in High Rock, but if Skyrim had more people like him, I could see myself making a home here. If I ever got out of this wagon. "If...If they've captured Jarl Ulfric, where are they taking us?" I ask, carefully trying to keep my voice steady. It doesn't work; I find myself nearly convulsing from the cold breeze that chooses to blow then. "I don't know where we're going, but Sovnguarde awaits," the blonde man answers. My stomach clenches. As much as I hope he's wrong, I know that he's right. They wouldn't give Ulfric a trial, not for the things he's accused of. "No, this can't be happening!" the thief protests. I found myself agreeing with him, although I wished he were quieter. "What village are you from, horse thief?" the blonde man asks. "Why do you care?" the thief snarls back. "A Nord's last thoughts should be of home," he answers softly.

"I'm from Rorikstead," the thief answers softly, after a long pause. "General Tulius, sir, the headsman is waiting!" calls out one of the Imperial soldiers, and my heart stutters in my chest. "Good, let's get this over with," came a weary reply, and I sit up straight trying to see my surroundings. We're approaching a small village, and soldiers are clustered around the wagons in Legion colors. "Shor, Mara, Kynareth, Akatosh...Divines help me," the thief exclaims, sounding panicked. I wondered, briefly, why I wasn't panicking like he was. I should be. I'd worked on a small farm my entire life, doing my best to scrape enough together to support myself and my mother, even though my father sent letters and huge pouches of gold when he could.

"Look at him, General Tulius, the military governor," the blonde man sneers, and I crane my neck for a glimpse of this Tulius. "And the Thalmor are with him as well." A shiver goes up my spine when he mentions the Thalmor. Nothing good ever came from them. They were like poison. As we get closer to the village, the blonde man seems to recognize it. "Ah, this is Helgen," he says, a faint smile flitting across his face. "I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Oh, I wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with the juniper berries mixed in. And it's funny how, when I was a boy, these Imperial walls used to make me feel so safe." As the wagons entered the village proper, I could hear a child begging to stay outside and watch the soldiers. He was ushered back inside as the wagon rolled to a halt.

"Why are we stopping?" the thief asks, panic seeping into his tone. I fidget. "Why do you think? End of the line. Come on, we shouldn't keep the gods waiting," the blonde man replies. I wonder how he's so calm as we approach the headsman's axe. Together, we stand and shuffle out of the cart, falling to the ground. "You have to tell them that the Breton and I aren't with you, that we weren't with your rebellion," the thief pleads, and I shake my head ever so slightly. The blonde man brushes against me reassuringly, and I give him a small smile. "Face your death with some courage, horse thief," I whisper, and the man falls silent.

"Step towards the block when we call your name," orders and Imperial captain. A man stands next to her, holding a long sheet of paper and a quill, and I suppose it's the names of the prisoners they've captured. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm," called out the man with the list, and Ulfric walked calmly towards the block, every bit the regal Jarl. "It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric," says one voice, although I'm not sure who it belonged to. "Ralof, of Riverwood," the man called out, and the blonde man who I had begun to like stepped forward, following Ulfric. "Lokir of Rorikstead," the man called out, and the thief took off running. He was shot down within seconds.

That was when the man turned to me. "Wait, you there, step forward," he orders, and I do, managing not to stumble. He takes me in, his eyes sweeping over me clinically. "Who are you?" he asks. "My name is Athena. I hail from High Rock. I was only going to visit Skyrim for a short while before returning to my mother," I answer. The man turns to the Imperial Captain beside of him. "Captain, she's not on the list. What should we do?" he asks, his voice soft. "Forget the list, she goes to the block," the Captain orders, and my stomach sinks. "I am sorry, Athena. I will make sure your remains are returned to your mother. Might I ask her name, so we can find her?" he asks. "Ingrid. My mother's name is Ingrid," I whisper. "Thank you, Athena. You can head to the block now," the man tells me, and I keep my head held high as I walk.

Minutes later, my neck is stretched out on the block, my hair swept to one side. The blood from the first man killed is still sticky and warm, and they hadn't even bothered to pull the body away before pushing me down onto my knees. Just as the headsman raises his axe, I see the cause of all the roaring. A dragon, flying towards us, letting out another fearsome roar as he lands on top of the tower. Fiery rocks fall from the sky, and the headsman is gone. I fall sideways, away from the block, trying to catch myself with my bound hands. "Athena!" Ralof calls out, and then his arms are around me, pulling me up onto my feet. We take off running, sliding into a tower opposite the one the dragon landed on, and the door slams shut behind us as the dragon roars again.


	2. Chapter 2

My vision blurs as I stumble and nearly fall, catching myself roughly against the wall. After it clears, I turn around to look at the others in the stone tower with me. Jarl Ulfric was standing beside the closed door, Ralof standing across from him. Somewhere, Jarl Ulfric had lost the gag, and behind me there were two injured soldiers curled up on bedrolls at the curve of the stairwell, with one of their comrades kneeling over them. My mouth had gone dry, my wrists were rubbed raw, but I couldn't believe I was alive. All the others had been freed from their bonds, and I hoped I was next. It would be hard to escape a dragon attack with my hands bound.

"Jarl Ulfric, could the legends be true?" Ralof asked. "Legends don't burn down villages," Ulfric answered. His voice was smooth, rolling through the keep. "You, come here," he said, looking at me. I let out a squeak and scurried forward. "You can't be bound during a dragon attack. Those damn Imperials would have left you to die. Hold out your hands," he instructed, and I did as he asked, pulling the rope taunt. There was very little room between each of my hands, and I found myself looking away as he pulled out a dagger and sawed through them. "Better?" he asked, once the scraps of fabric had fallen to the ground. "Much. Thank you, my Jarl," I murmur, and step back. I do another sweep of the tower with my eyes, and one of the injured soldiers was almost ready to move again. "We need to get out of here as quickly as possible. Is there a way to get out of Helgen that's not just running for the gates and hoping for the best?" I ask. "The Keep. There's got to be another way out of the town through there," Ralof answers.

"Then we have somewhat of a plan," Ulfric says. Ralof and I both look at him expectantly, waiting on orders. "Athena, you and Ralof get to the Keep together. The rest of us will follow as soon as Vera is able to walk," he says, and I motion for Ralof to go first. He leads the way up the stairs, where a floor above a couple more soldiers work to remove rubble. Just then, the dragon breaks through the stone wall. I stumble backwards, dragging Ralof with me as the dragon releases a stream of fire from it's mouth, and I nearly fall back down the stairs. The other soldiers were nothing more than ash as the dragon flew away once more. "Fuck," I swore under my breath, starting up the stairs again. The floor was blisteringly hot, and I knew I'd need a healing spell or something later.

"See that inn on the other side?" Ralof asks, pointing, and I nod. It's not too far away. "We'll jump through the roof and keep going, all right?" he says. "Are you sure we can make that jump?" I ask. "Yeah. I'll go first, so I can catch you just in case you need me too. Best to get a running start," he answers, backing up as far as he could before taking off running and then jumping. He flew through the air until he landed heavily on the other side. I took a deep breath, backed up, and then took off at a run. It was terrifying when I began soaring through the air. I almost didn't make it, and then Ralof was there, his arms around me as we both fell backwards.

I climbed off of him and helped him back up. "Thanks," I say, quickly, and he nods in acknowledgment before dropping down onto the first floor. He creep over the to the edge and fall down lightly, landing neatly on my feet this time. I feel a sharp stab of pain in my foot, and I must have stepped onto something, but I didn't have time to worry as Ralof took off at a run. I followed him, my lungs burning from the smoke. There was an Imperial soldier, coaxing a boy to shelter, but Ralof ran past. I, however, skidded to a stop. I share a look with the soldier; he was the one who had been reading names off of his list. "What's your name?" I asked the little boy, breathlessly. "H-Hamming. My name is Hamming," he says. "Hamming, you are being so brave right now. It's very important, though, that you either follow me or that soldier over there, okay? Because if you follow us, we can get you to safety," I say, reaching my hand out to him. The dragon circles overhead once more, letting out a fearsome roar, and the boy runs right into my arms. "Come with me," I call to the soldier, scooping the boy up. The man hesitates, and then takes off running. I follow him, keeping a tight hold on Hamming.

We skid to a stop in front of a wall, just as the dragon lands on it. The soldier and I both crouch down, pressed up against the wall, and Hamming whimpers, burying his face into my neck. I murmur nonsensical comforts in his hear until the dragon flies off again, and then the soldier and I take off at a run. We don't stop as we pass General Tulius, who is still trying to command his men. We keep going until we round the corner to the Keep, where Ralof stands in front of one of the half-open doors. "Ralof, you damned traitor, out of my way," the Imperial growls. "We're escaping, Hadvar, and you can't stop us," Ralof retorts. "Hey, later would be a great time to argue about the civil war. Right now, we've got a little kid to worry about. We'll leave together," I yell. Both men look sufficiently embarrassed, and Ralof holds the door open wider. "No, it'd be better to go into the other door. It leads into the armory and Athena can get some armor of her own," Hadvar suggests. I nod at him, and Ralof bitterly lets the door fall shut.

I follow Hadvar, and Ralof follows me, and it isn't until the door shuts behind us and blocks out most of the light and the noise that I realize that Hamming is still in my arms. I put him down carefully as Hadvar goes through the Keep, looking through chests for various armor pieces. He tosses the curiass to me first, and without hesitation I strip out of the rags I was wearing. The leather armor is ill-fitting; too-wide and too long, but it'll work until I can manage to get more. The boots are tossed at me next. I sit down on one of the empty chests to pull them on, and notice the burst blisters on my feet. I wince, suddenly feeling the pain. "Are there any healing potions?" I ask. "No, sorry," Hadvar answers, tossing the bracers to me. I swear under my breath, and then Hamming steps forward. "I know a healing spell. It's a basic one, but...maybe I can still help," he says. "Please, Hamming, if you don't mind," I say, stretching my feet out towards him. He kneels down in front of me, his hands lightly touching my skin, and lets his spell wash over them. I let out a sigh of relief as the blisters and cuts heal. "Thank you, Hamming. How did you learn how to do that?" I ask, as he lets go of my feet and I pull on my boots. "Ma taught me. Said I might need to know one day," he answered, somewhat proudly. Ralof moves to help me lace up my bracers, and Hadvar tosses me a sheathed sword that I strap at my waist. "Is there any sort of armor we could put on Hamming? Just in case?" I ask hopefully, but Hadvar shakes his head. "Right. Then Hamming will stay behind me,and I'll stay at the back. Hadvar, do you know this place well enough to lead us out of it?" I ask. "Yes. We can do a sweep for survivors as we pass through. Keep your weapons sheathed until we have to use them; we want to try to keep as many survivors alive as possible," he orders, and Ralof has enough sense to argue.

With that, we take off through the twisting, winding corridors that seem to always slope downwards. Hamming reaches out and grabs one my hands, and I squeeze his reassuringly. The Keep is surprisingly empty, although we do come across the bodies of the torturer and his assistant. "Someone else has made it through here. Probably more Stormcloaks who couldn't avoid the confrontation," I say, and Hadvar nods his agreement. Ralof mutters something under his breath, but the three of us ignore him. We do a quick sweep of the room, and I pick up a knapsack that glows with some kind of enchantment. Beside it is a book, which I toss in there for good measure. In one of the cages, there's a spell book and some coins. I use the lockpicks I found on the table by the book to pick the rusted lock. I take the gold and the spellbook, and then we continue on.

Minutes later we come into a cave system through a busted out wall. The dragon is so far above us that we can't even hear it, if it's still there. The caverns are eerily quiet, and we all find ourselves walking a little lighter through them. The air, however, is fresh, so there's an exit somewhere. We come across some frostbite spiders, giant ones, and I shield Hamming with my body as Ralof and Hadvar dispatch them. The two make a good team out on the battlefield, though they'd never admit it. Ralof takes the lead, somehow knowing where to go, and all is well until we come upon a massive cavern with a bear.

There's a small cart, surrounded by blood, but in contains some bottles of wine and heavy coinpurses, so those go into my bag as well. Ralof had picked up a bow somewhere. "Here, let me," I whisper, reaching for it. On the farm, I'd gotten good at archery, as Mother had often sent me out to go hunting when we needed fresh meat. I took one of the iron arrows we'd picked up along the way, step forward a good ten paces, and aim. I take a deep breath in, and let it out, and before I take another, I fire. The arrow sinks into the bear's skull, directly between the eyes, and it twitches once, and then lies still once more.

Ralof takes the lead once more, and within minutes, we can see the exit. The air is cold, but fresh, and I let out a delighting squeal. We run the rest of the way into the sunlight, and just as our ragged group exits the cave, the dragon flies overhead, without noticing us, disappearing against the horizon. "Looks like he's gone for good," Ralof remarks uneasily. "And we made it out alive," I answer, tipping my face back. "Where will we go now?" Hamming asks, his voice small and quiet behind me. "We can go to Riverwood. My uncle is the blacksmith there," Hadvar answers. "And my sister runs the lumbermill. They'll take care of us," he assures. I throw one arm across Hamming's shoulders, pulling him close to my side. "If we walk fast, we can make it before dark," I say, and with that, we start down the road.

 _ **A/N: Okay, so, obviously this is a little AU already. I hope the divergence from canon is cool with you guys.**_

 _ **Guest- I'm glad you like it! I've already got the entire first story down in this series, so regular updates should come for awhile. I'm just rewriting and polishing the chapters, and hopefully making them a little better. The original is posted on AO3 if you want to check it out, but as I may change some things for the better, waiting to read it here might be best. I will try to update every day, and if I can't keep that schedule up with life happening as a thing, I'll try to do every other day, or at least as frequently as possible. I hope you continue to enjoy the story.**_


	3. Chapter 3

We walked to Riverwood mostly in silence, with Ralof and Hadvar in the lead. We didn't stop until we reached the blacksmith's, just as dusk set in. I nearly collasped on the porch, but Ralof continued on. "I'm going to go see my sister; see what she can do. You can come with me or stay with Hadvar, I don't suppose it'll matter either way. Lucien might still be open if you want to go sell some things and get a change of clothes," Ralof suggests. "Hamming, what do you want to do?" I ask, worriedly. The boy looked like he might be in shock, and I wouldn't blame him if he was, but it was important to keep him grounded. He blinked, looked between myself and Ralof. "I can go to the store by myself, and you can go with one of them and explain the situation," he offers. I turn to look at Ralof for permission, and he shrugs. "I suppose that would be best. Get sleep clothes for both of us, if you can afford it. You can sell off anything in the pack, but keep the pack itself," I instruct, handing it to him. There were some wolf pelts rolled up in there, the wolves themselves had been quickly dispatched on the walk from Helgen, as well as all the wine, and the coin we already had. Hamming took off across the road, to the Riverwood Trader, and I followed Ralof. "Hadvar, you explain to your uncle what's going on and about Hamming. We'll meet up outside the inn and figure everything out from there," I say.

Ralof leads the way across the wooden bridge. His sister, Gerdur, with the same blonde hair and blue eyes, is still working at her lumber mill. She stops the moment she sees Ralof, stepping towards him. She stops once more when she sees me and the Imperial armor I'm wearing. "Ralof! Mara's mercy, it's good to see you. But who's this? And why is she wearing Imperial colors?" she asks warily. "Gerdur, Gerdur, it's fine. We come from Helgen, though. There was a dragon attack. We barley made it out alive. Hadvar helped us escape, and there's a young boy who came with us," Ralof begins. I push past him. "The dragon wiped out the town. I don't know who else, if anyone, escaped, but if we hadn't worked together, none of us would have gotten out alive. Is there anything you can do to help us?" I ask, raking grimy fingers through even grimier hair. "We can get you all hot meals, and I'm sure Hadvar's uncle will help if the boy asks. One more can stay in our house, and I know Alvor's house isn't big either, so we can put a little bit towards a room at the inn, if you'd like," she offers. "That would be more help than you could imagine. Hamming is at the Riverwood Trader, getting sleep clothes for us while he can. Is there anything I can do to help you?" I ask. "We need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf. Stay a few days; recover, and then head out and ask for them to send some soldiers. If the dragon comes here, we're completely defenseless," she says. "I can do that. I'll leave you two to catch up," I say, and I barely manage to stumble back across the bridge by myself.

I don't remember ever being so tired, or dirty. I'm covered in blood, some of it mine, some of it not, and various other bits of grime, and my red hair hangs limp around my face. By some stroke of luck, Hamming exits the store just as I step off the bridge. "How much is left over?" I ask, reaching out and taking the bundled clothes from the boy. "Twenty-five septims. I think the store owners took pity on me," he answers. "Great! That should be enough for a room at the inn and hot baths for each of us. Gerdur promised to help us pay for the rooms, and to pay for hot meals for each of us," I tell him. He brightens considerably at that, and I think that hot baths and warm food will be good for both of us.

The innkeeper, a Breton woman named Delphine, says she'll get us to pay later, and has two hot baths drawn up for us. "I'll let you bathe in my room, miss, as long as you're careful," she says, and I thank her profusely. Sinking into the hot water feels even better than I imagined, with my dirty armor discarded around me. I scrub at my skin until it's pink, and scrub even more at my hair. I finally surface, clean, and then I dress in the blue robe that Hamming purchased for me. Eventually, I stumble out of Delphine's bedroom. It's late, now, and Hamming is already eating. "You're sharing a room with the boy," Delphine informed me, pointing. I took a moment to dump my armor on the floor of our room. "Could I pay extra to have that cleaned?" I ask. "I...suppose so," Delphine conceded. I dropped a handful of septims onto the table, plopped down beside Hamming, and did my best not to fall asleep in my stew.

The boy's head was nodding too, and more than once we nearly fell asleep at the table before we finally stumbled back to our bedroom. I curled up on the bed, Hamming next to me, and fell into a blissfully deep sleep, until late the next day. We spend three days in Riverwood, resting and recovering. I manage to trade the Imperial armor I'd been wearing for some well-fitting studded armor. It shows off more skin than I'd like, but it's better than people assuming I've picked a side in the war. Hamming gets fitted for some boots, which I pay for despite the boy's protests.

On the third day, Gerdur pulls me aside with Ralof and Hadvar. "What do you plan to do with the boy?" she asks, and I freeze. I honestly hadn't considered that. "I...I couldn't ask you to keep him here," I say, finally, looking down at the floor. "But what will you do instead of that? You've not got a house, do you?" Hadvar asks, concern practically radiating from him. "Not...yet," I admit. "I could work up enough coin to send him to High Rock, to live with my mother, I suppose, but there's no one to make the voyage with him," I say, gnawing on my bottom lip. "We'll keep him for now. We'll work something out later, when you've a bit more coin to your name," Gerdur insists, and I have to let her.

With that, I say goodbye to Hamming, Ralof, and Hadvar, and set off for Whiterun.


	4. Chapter 4

It took two and a half hours of easy walking before I came upon Honningbrew Meadery. I hadn't run into any trouble on the road aside from a pack of wolves. They had clearly been desperate and starving, and while they had fought fiercely, I'd killed them and gotten away with only shallow bite marks. I had taken the time to skin them and take their pelts to sell. Without anything to occupy my mind, though, all I had to do was think. I started thinking about Hamming and his situation. Surely the boy had some family left, family that hadn't lived in Helgen, or family that had escaped Helgen. After I talked to the Jarl, I figured I'd head back to Riverwood and speak with him on the matter. Hopefully, I could sell the pelts for enough money to buy him a small gift.

Minutes after I passed the meadery, I saw a group of three warriors fighting a giant. I broke into a run, pulling out my bow and nocking an arrow as I ran. As soon as I was close enough, I skidded to a stop and took aim. The threesome looked like they were doing a good job of wearing the giant down, but even from here I could tell the warriors were tired. So I let the arrow fly, and it struck the giant in it's forearm. The beast turned it's head to look at me and let out a roar meant to scare me away. I kept moving closer. One of the warriors, the one with the greatsword, used the distraction to take a massive swing at the giant's legs, bringing him to his knees with a bellow. I shot another arrow, and then another in quick sucession, trying to keep the giant's attention. I wasn't close enough to land any critical hits without risking hitting one of the warriors, but I didn't need to. With it's attention still on me, the other warrior abandoned her shield and climbed up the giant's back. She locked her legs around it's neck as it tried to shake her off, and the other warriors kept peppering it with assaults to keep it occupied. The woman on the giant's back let out a bellow of her own, a war cry, and jumped upwards, driving her sword into the giant's skull with all her weight into the blow. The giant let out another roar, thrashing weakly in his death throes now. The warrior hung on until the giant began to fall, and then she leapt off and landed neatly on her feet.

I jogged the rest of the way to join them, slowing to a stop nearby. The red-haired woman, the one who had hung back on the edges of the fight with her bow, like I had, approaches me. "You handled yourself well in that fight. It was honorable of you to join the fray without knowing who we were," she praises. "You three looked like you had it handled, but a little help never hurt anyone. I was glad to be of some assistance," I answered. "You would make a good Shield-Sister," the red-haired woman tells me. Her hair is almost the same shade as mine. "What's a Shield-Sister?" I ask, falling in step with her as she heads towards Whiterun. "An outsider?" she asks, and I nod. "Ever heard of the Companions?" I think I might have heard a few stories from my father when I was a child, before his visits to the farm stopped, but I wasn't sure. "I...don't think so," I reply, pushing my hair out of my eyes.

"We're a group of warriors, who fight for honor and glory. If someone has a problem, and the coin is good enough, we show up to help. We're respected throughout all of Skyrim. You should think about joining. We pay our warriors well for their jobs," she explains. "How would I go about joining?" I ask, nearly jogging to keep up with her longer stride. "Head up to Jorrvaskar, in Whiterun, and ask to talk to Kodlak Whiteman. Someone will tell you where to find the old man. He'll decide if you can join or not," she tells me. "After I speak to the Jarl, I'll head up there. I could use the join, and the work sounds appealing," I say, smiling shyly at her. "Speak to the Jarl, eh? If you don't mind my asking, what's your business with him?" she asks, turning to look at me. She finally stops for a few moments, probably to allow the other two with her time to catch up. We were standing outside the stables now.

"I come from Riverwood, and before that, Helgen. I have news about the dragon attack, and Riverwood calls for his aid," I explain, after only a moment's hesitation. There was no use in keeping it a secret. "Ah. News has been rumors, at best, lies at worse. What happened at Helgen?" she asks. "They had caught several Stormcloaks. I...wandered into the ambush, trying to find my way across the border. I come from High Rock, see, and I came to Skyrim to try and find my father. They were going to execute the Stormcloak soldiers, along with me, and a great black dragon attacked. It was...terrifying, honestly, but I escaped with a few others, and found generous souls in Riverwood," I tell her. We start walking just as the other two catch up with us. "That is quite the tale. Say, what's your name, friend?" she asks. "Athena. And yours?" I ask. The gates are coming into view now, as massive as the crumbling walls around the city. "Aela. They call me a Huntress," she answers.

We have no more time for conversation as a guard steps forward. "Halt! Companions, you are welcome within these walls, but the gates of Whiterun are closed to outsiders with the dragon about," he calls out. His helmet leaves his face masked, so I can't see his expression, which puts me on edge. Without thinking, I find my hand drifting towards "Easy, Vren. She's got news the Jarl will want to hear, about Helgen," Aela calls out. "And Riverwood calls for his aid," I add. Vren, the guard, seems to be considering. After a moment, he relents, and the gates swing open. I walk inside with Aela and the others. "We won't part ways until we get to the Gildergreen. I can give you directions from there to the Jarl's palace, although it's not hard to get to," she tells me. "Thank you, Aela," I say gratefully.

The Jarl's palace is indeed easy to get to, and no one stops me as I climb the stone stairs. Inside, the palace is huge. The air inside is cool, but warm enough. Above the Jarl's throne is an ancient dragon's skull, and the magnificance of the palace is not lost on me. It's very open and beautiful, and I could spend all day looking at the building itself, had I the time. But I didn't have the time, so I kept moving up the long hallway, trying not to stare too hard and make a fool of myself.

"Halt! What is the meaning of this? Jarl Balgruuf isn't recieving visitors right now!" growls a Dumner woman as she approaches me slowly, her weapon drawn. "I have news from Helgen about the dragon attack, and Gerdur of Riverwood sends me to ask for the Jarl's aid for the town," I explain, quickly. She frowns at me, but she sheathes her weapon and motions for me to continue you. "I wouldn't make any sudden moves, if I were you," she warns.

The Jarl listened patiently to my story, then ordered Irilieth, the Dumner woman, to send a detachment of guards to Riverwood. He turns back to me. "Well done. You sought me out to help citizens, even with no reward in it for yourself. I insist on giving you, one, though. That armor you have is ill-fitting. I insist on giving you a new set, from my personal armory," he says. Minutes later, his steward brings out a beautiful piece of leather armor that glows softly with an enchantment. "It is enchanted to give a boon to your health in battle. You have done my citizens a great service, although I ask for another one from you," he says. "What do you wish of me, my Jarl?" I ask.

"Follow me. My court wizard has a project concerning the dragons that he would like help with." He rises from his throne, and I follow behind him, the leather armor cradeled to my chest.

 _ **A/N: I am so sorry that it took so long for me to get this chapter up. I had the majority of the chapter down and then my teacher was helping me with an assignment and closed out the browser when she was done. I had to take a moment.**_

 _ **KG, Guest: I'm glad you like it! In the original that I wrote, I hadn't given any thought to Hamming. I kept it a lot closer to canon, and I want to get away from that in the re-write. I am considering having Athena adopt Hamming once she purchases Breezehome, but I'm not sure if I will or not, as in-game he goes to his uncle. Regardless, I'm glad you like it, and I hope you continue to like it!**_


	5. Chapter 5

Twenty minutes later, I'm making the trek back to Riverwood. I had stopped by the general store after speaking to Farengar and sold off all the wolf pelts and other various things I could afford to sell. I had enough money to buy Hamming a stuffed bear. It was a ragged thing, old, but it was clean. Hamming was old enough that he didn't exactly need the stuffed bear, but I thought perhaps he would like it anything. It was the only thing in the shop that could even be considered remotely for children.

After that, I made the two and a half hour trek back to Riverwood. It's nearly dusk by the time I reach the town. "Athena!" comes a shout, and then there's arms wrapped around my neck. I lift Hamming up and swing him around before putting him down gently. "Heya, Hamming. I've got something for you," I say, throwing my arm around his shoulders. He comes up to my jawline as he stands there next to me, and he's either a very tall child or I'm a very short woman. Given my Breton heritage, I'm probably just short.

Ralof and Hadvar are sitting on the inn's porch, talking. Somehow, they've resolved their differences. Surviving a dragon attack can do that, I suppose. "Athena! How'd it go?" Hadvar calls, finally noticing me. I slide into the seat next to him. "It went well. The Jarl is sending a detachment of guards. I'm not sure when they'll get here. He does, however, want me to go into Bleak Falls Barrow," I admit. "He's mad! What could possibly be in there that he wants?" Ralof protests. "The court wizard, Farengar, is working on a project to find out more about the dragons. There is, supposedly, a stone tablet deep in the Barrow that he needs," I explain. Suddenly, I feel very, very tired and I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands. "The Barrow is dangerous. You shouldn't go alone," Hadvar says, laying his hand gently on my knee. "Who would go with me?" I ask wearily. "I would," Hadvar offers. "As would I," Ralof chimes in, leaning around Hadvar to look at me.

"I'll only take one of you. Any more than that and we could draw attention to ourselves. I'd like to sneak past the draugr as much as possible, if they're even real," I say. "I'll go," Hadvar says. I smile at him. "We'll leave in the morning," I tell him, stretching. "All right. I'll come get you up early. Someone likes to sleep late," he teases, ruffling my hair. I stick my tongue out at him and stand. "The room at the inn, by the way, should still be yours. Delphine likes you, and she likes Gerdur. Gerdur asked that you always have a place to stay when you stop by, at least until you get your feet under you," Ralof informs me, catching my wrist as I pass to get my attention. "Thank you, and I'll be sure to thank Gerdur when I see her," I reply. Hamming follows me inside. Delphine simply points to a room, waving me inside. I enter and sit down on the bed.

"You said you got me something?" Hamming asks, hopefully. "Yeah. I mean, you might not like it, but..." I say, trailing off as I dig the bear out of my pack. I hold it out to him, and he takes it gently, cradling it. "It wasn't my first choice of a gift to give you, but it was all that Belethor had. I just...I have nightmares, too, so I thought maybe you would like it. I had one back home. I slept with it up until I left," I say, nervously. "Thank you, Thena. I'll see if it helps," he says, leaning over to give me another hug. I grin and pull him into my lap.

I tell him about the Jarl's palace until my stomach grumbles loud enough to interrupt us. I have just enough coin to buy a good meal. Hamming eats his beside me. It seems the entire village has decided to raise him together until we can work out a more permanent solution. After supper, I give the boy another hug, ruffling his hair affectionately, and then I go back into my room. I don't even change out of my armor before I collapse on the bed.

Far too early, Hadvar is shaking me awake. I grumble, turning over on my side to face him. "Rise and shine," he says, teasingly. "Oh, fuck off," I mumble, throwing my arm over my face. "Not a chance, dearest Athena. Come on. We've got a Barrow to delve into," he says. I groan and grumble, but finally sit up, throwing the fur covers off. "Well, go on, get out so I can change," I say, laughing a little as I push him gently. He bows, backing out of the room, and the door closes shut behind him. I strip out of the Imperial armor and change into the leather armor, pulling my boots on and lacing them tightly. I strap my sword to my hip, and then I splash water on my face before exiting.

Hadvar is waiting for my by the door, leaning up against the wall. When he sees me, he stands, looking as bleary as I feel now that I notice him. I open the door, the cold air rushing across my face making me shiver. "It's not even dawn yet!" I yelp, turning around to swat at him. He laughs, pulling me against him in a side hug. "How will you ever forgive my transgressions?" he asks, dramatically leaning against me. I grin, and shove him away from me gently. "Get off of me you big lug! You'll break me," I tease.

It is silent, until we reach the tower. It's taken enough time that the sun is high in the sky now, but Hadvar holds out a hand to steady me. "There are bandits there, see them?" he asks, his voice a whisper that frosts the air. "Yeah, I see them. Do you want to take them on or try to sneak by?" I ask, my voice equally as quiet. "I don't know. There's only two of us, but..." he trails off, and I nod. "We'll take them on, then," I say, unsheathing my sword.

Hadvar and I charge forward. I veer to one side, Hadvar to the other, and the first bandit is dead before he can draw his weapon. An arrow whistles by my ear and another bandit charges at us. I raise my sword up just in time to block, the shock radiating through my fingers. I lean into the next strike, and he blocks it in the same manner. I let out a growl of frustration as he leans into the block, backing me down the hill. Hadvar appears, sliding his blade neatly inbetween the bandits ribs. I stand back, panting, an an arrow lands in my shoulder. I hiss, charging towards the offending bowman. "Dammit, Athena!" Hadvar yells, but after a brief moment of resistence then the bandit's head is rolling down the mountain.

I am met with eerie silence once more. "That's all of them," Hadvar says, jogging up to me. He rests one hand on my shoulder. "How do you feel?" he asks anxiously. "Like I have an arrow in my shoulder," I answer, a weak grin on my face. "I mean, smartass, is there any sort ill effects? Was it poisoned?" he asks. "I don't think so. But I'd really appreciate it if you would get it out of me," I pant. He grips it and I let out a groan. "Fuck, this hurts," I groan, and then he yanks. I let out a screech, my body arching away from Hadvar. He holds me in place, tossing the arrow away. "Hey, Athena, it's okay, it's over now," he assures, his hand clamped down on the bleeding hole. "Yeah, still hurts, though," I manage. He moves my other hand, putting it where his was. "Keep pressure on it while I find a bandage," he orders, and I grit my teeth and do it even though it _hurts_.

Finally, he manages to find the bandages in my pack. "All right, move your hand," he says, and I gladly comply. I'm stick with blood now. "It didn't go deep because of the pauldrons, but it'll probably bleed quite a bit and be very sore for awhile," he warns, wrapping the bandages around my arm several times over before tying it off. "All right. Thanks. Should we try to clean ourselves up or?" I ask, looking helplessly at the blood already crusting on the both of us. "We should...We can build a fire. Boil some of the snow," he says, looking down at it. A laugh bubbles out from somewhere deep inside.

"Gods, we're a mess," I manage, and Hadvar is grinning as he leads me inside. There's a firepit, although the fire has long since burnt out. "You sit. I'll go get the snow," he tells me, pushing me firmly down. "I'll stay," I promise, nudging him gently. He picks up a dirty, discared pot from the corner of the room and disappears outside. The snow is picking up, and if we don't hurry it'll turn into a blizzard, trapping us here. At least we're well stocked.

We manage to clean the majority of the blood off and get going before the snowstorm gets too bad. I found a cloak in one of the chests upstairs, as well as a good bit of gold. "Well, this should set me well onto my goal of a house," I'd remarked, grinning, as I tucked it away. Hadvar watched, bemused, as I looted the place, and then we stepped back into the swirling snow. An hour and a half later, we're standing at the foot of the the barrow. The thing is much larger than I thought, and even in the forming blizzard, the ruin is majestic.

There are more bandits. My bones ache at the thought of another fight, a twinge of pain lancing through my arm where the arrow had hit, but Hadvar charges into a fight while the bandits are still scattered and unaware. I can't let him take them all on, so I target the bowman and run at her, screeching. She is wearing a poor excuse of fur armor that barely covers her breastband, and I wonder how she can stand the cold. I don't have long to wonder before my sword is through her midsection. Her mouth makes an 'o' shape, and then I kick her off of my sword and turn around just in time to stop the worst of a blow from a bandit that had gotten past Hadvar. I parry, although I get a new, shallow slash across my forearm, and then a sword is buried in his neck. I nod my thanks to Hadvar and scan the battlefield.

There are no bandits left alive, their blood soaking into the snow, so I lead the way inside the barrow proper. It is somehow colder inside, but the two bandits that are alive are surounded by skeever corpses and weakened, and are thus easy to kill. We move through the barrow easily, taking what gold I can find. Hadvar starts to protest, but I talk him into turning away. The dead don't need their gold, do they?

The Nordic puzzle almost stumped us both for a long moment, until Hadvar noticed the symbols on the giant heads surrounding the room matched the symbols on the pillar. I step over to one of the pillars warily, pulling on it, and to my surprise it gives and turns with a great grinding noise. We make sure they match the heads, and the order of them, and then I pull the lever. I brace myself for more arrows to come, but the gate opens silently instead. Hadvar and I move deeper into the barrow, and the air grows heavier.

We take out a frostbite spider and another bandit, this one a Dunmer and much faster than he looks. He has a mysterious golden claw on him. I pocket it, thinking it might be useful later. I take his lockpicks as well, and then we move on. No one made it this far into the barrow, and the air is thick with fear. We find our feet falling lighter on the floor, barely making a sound.

When the first draugr wakens, I have to hold back a scream. Their old, dusty bones creak, and Hadvar and I have to bludgeon our ways through them. They finally crumple under our assaults, and we move on. We go as quickly as we dare, both eager to get out of the barrow, and we finally stop when we come to a heavy door. It has a place where the claw would fit perfectly, and I know there's another puzzle here, but we are both injured and exhausted. "Let's take a rest here," I suggest, and Hadvar simply nods wearily, sliding to the floor with his back against the wall. I follow him down, leaning against him. "We got healing potions?" I ask. "Yeah, but I don't want to waste them," Hadvar says. "It won't be a waste. I don't know how much longer we'll be down here, and if we leave these wounds unhealed we might get them infected," I argue. "You're right, Thena," he murmurs after a moment, and pats my knee before digging through his pack.

He pulls out two, handing one over to me. I down it, and it tates almost pleasant with a hint of herbs in the aftertaste. I feel better instantly, and then I settle down, leaning against Hadvar as he leans against me. We fall into a light, uneasy sleep. When we finally wake up, we eat a light breakfast of bread and cheese from our packs, and I toss the claw to Hadvar. "See if you can figure out this puzzle," I say, shifting around to make sure all our gear is packed up.

By the time I turn around, the door is grinding open. "How the hell did you did you do that?" I demand. "There are symbols on the claw, here," he says, pointing, "and they match the symbols on the door."

We continue. It doesn't take long until we reach a main chamber. It's a massive cavern, with small bridges that we cross. There is a strange wall at one end, and something in it calls to me, and I step forward, resting my forehead against the cold stone. My blood sings as my eyes focus on the symbols. I let out a groan of something, and Hadvar calls out to me but I don't hear him until a loud thump draws my attention. I turn around just in time to see another one of those draugr pop out of the sarcophagus. I lean against the wall, drawing my sword. "Hadvar, I think we might be well and truly fucked. This one has armor. It's harder to bludgeon metal armor," I say, slowly, unsteadily wobbling as I try to push myself off the wall.

"I got this," he answers, stepping forward. I want to protest, really, but as I stand up, blood rushes to my head and I fall back against the wall with a thump. Hadvar, in his defense, does amazingly until the draugr shouts and staggers him. Without thinking, I charge at the draugr, knocking us both to the ground in a heap of bones and limbs. I bring the hilt of my sword down, bashing in it's skull. Finally, it stops struggling. I roll off of it, onto my back, and stare unseeingly at the cavern's roof. "What was that wall?" Hadvar asked, coming to lay next to me. "I have no clue. It made me feel weird, though. It...called to me. Didn't you feel it?" I ask. "No, I didn't, but I was farther away than you were. How did it feel?" he asks. "It made my blood sing," I answer.

We lay there for what felt like an hour, until I was ready to stand. I think I'd drifted off a couple of times on the blessedly cool stone, but eventually I staggered to my feet with Hadvar's help. We were both covered in the stench of death and blood and sweat. I groaned at the thought of trekking all the way back through the Barrow with the heavy Dragonstone in my pack, but Hadvar told me that most Nordic ruins usually had a back door. "I'll leave it up to you to find it," I say. I still feel a little woozy as Hadvar leads the way up the stairs.

There is indeed a backdoor from the barrow. It seems it had lead into a cave system, and Hadvar and I exited in much warmer air. Well, warm for Skyrim. It was still cold compared to High Rock, and I'd lost the cloak I'd found somewhere in the barrow. "Back to Whiterun, or Riverwood?" Hadvar asks. "Riverwood. Farengar can wait. We almost got killed six times," I answer bitterly. "As you wish," Hadvar says, linking one of his arms in mine. I felt much like I had when we'd made the escape from Helgen, bone-tired and aching all over. But Hadvar assured us we would be to Riverwood soon, for some much needed rest and recovery.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, I don my ill-fitting Imperial armor once more. I take the leather armor by the blacksmith's to get it repaired. "You go through armor, don't you, girl?" Alvor says when I bring it to him. I grin. "Of course. I have to keep the blacksmiths in business somehow," I reply. "Consider going for some heavy armor, would you? I have a nice steel set that I could outfit you in," he offers. "As much as I appreciate the offer, Alvor, I am saving up to buy a house. Maybe even a nice parcel of land out by Whiterun. It'd be nice to have my own farm. Especially since I doubt I'll be going back to High Rock anytime soon," I answer, pushing my hair out of my eyes and leaning against one of the wooden supports on his porch. "The armor would be a gift. And don't say anything about not imposing on us. You've done more for me by getting Hadvar out of Helgen alive than I'd care to admit, not to mention going to the Jarl for aid when you didn't have to. You won't be able to get that farm if you're not alive to do it," he said, somewhat sternly. "I'd feel wrong taking the armor from you," I protest, half-heartedly. Any armor that Alvor could fit me with would be much better than the Imperial leathers I'm wearing. "And if I insisted?" he says, a soft smile on his face. "Are you sure you don't mind?" I ask, chewing on my bottom lip. "I'm sure," he answers, clapping me on the shoulder.

An hour later, I have a full set of steel armor. "Come back in a couple days to pick up the leather armor," he tells me, and then I head to the Riverwood Trader. I have no use for the golden claw that Hadvar and I found, nor do I have any use for the gems I'd picked up. They should fetch a nice price, though, and I do have a use for all the gold. "Athena, yes? What can I do for you?" Lucan asks, as I enter. "I have quite a few things I'd like to sell," I answer, putting my pack on the counter. I begin pulling things out of it, starting with all the gems. I place the claw on the counter last, and as I do so, Lucan and his sister both gasp. "Is that...Where did you get that?" Camilla asks. "I found it while I was in the Barrow. It opened a puzzle door, but other than that I don't have a use for it," I answer, rubbing the back of my neck uneasily. "A few days ago, our store got robbed. That claw was the only thing they took. I suppose that's why, if it was a key, but here, let us reimburse you for bringing it to us," Lucan chimes in. He hands me a heavy coinpurse. "Just how much is in this?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him. "Almost a thousand septims. For the gems and the claw, of course, and no, I won't take any of it back," he says. "I thank you. I should be on my way now," I say, bowing, and I exit the store.

I take a brief moment to say farewell to Hamming and Ralof. "It wouldn't hurt if I walk you to Whiterun, would it?" he asks. "No, I don't think it would. I might even welcome the company," I answer, smiling. "I wish I could accompany you. Even though Whiterun is technically neutral in the civil war, they bear no love for the Stormcloaks. Besides, someone has to stay here with Hamming, unless you plan on taking him into the city with you," Ralof says. "I'll take Hamming to Whiterun one day, but not today. I have to deliver this Dragonstone to Farengar as soon as I get back," I say. I pull Hamming to me in a gentle hug, kissing the top of his head. "We'll be back in a couple days, I promise," I say.

Walking with Hadvar is a lot different than walking alone. Hadvar is pleasant enough company, although halfway to Whiterun we start a serious debate about the war. "We should have the right to worship Talos, don't get me wrong, but Ulfric is going about it the wrong way," Hadvar argues. "Maybe he is, but the Empire is dying. The Empire has been dying since the Oblivion Crisis. I think the best solution is to broker peace, and then work against the Aldmeri Dominion. They're the real threat," I answer. "You might be right there, but I don't think there's any power in the world that would get Tullius to sit down at a peace council with Ulfric. There's too much bad blood between them," Hadvar says. "You might be right. I mean, I come from High Rock, so I'm not the most knowledgeable on all this, but I think if we eradicated the Aldmeri Dominion and lifted the ban on Talos worship, the civil war would fizzle out. I don't know, I probably shouldn't take sides," I say, crossing my arms. "You're right there. It would create tension between you and Ralof if you joined the Legion, and I'd try not to let it create tension between the two of us if you joined the rebellion, but I'd always be afraid of meeting you on the battlefield. What would we do then?" he asks, and my blood goes cold. "I hadn't thought of that. I just thought I'd lose a friend," I murmur. Hadvar wraps his arms around my shoulder, pulling me against him. "Maybe the war will be over soon. Gods know it's gone on long enough."

*

It takes us less time to get to Whiterun, but by the time we reach the gates, I'm out of breath. Hadvar has a much longer stride than I do, and I spent most of the time trying to keep up with him. As we enter the city, a couple guards make a remark about Hadvar's armor. "It's as Ralof says; Whiterun may technically be neutral, but if pushed, Balgruuf with side with the Legion," I whisper. "Most definitely. Although the Gray-Manes won't be pleased with that. They're so at odds with the Battle-Borns, though...it's kind of sad," he answers, his voice equally low. Just then, as we enter the market, we come open two of the Battle-Borns arguing with Fralia Gray-Mane. "And what of my son? I know you know where he is!" Fralia yells, her face red from anger. Her eyes, however, are puffy, like she's been crying. "Hey! The market isn't the place for this! You two families can hate each other all you want in private, but not here. Besides, don't you two have something better to do than pick a fight with an old woman? Either buy something or fuck off," I snap, stepping in between the two of them. I ignore Hadvar's non-verbal warnings as I shoo off the Battle-Borns. "Are you all right, Fralia, dear?" I ask. She lets out a heavy sigh. "No, but I thank you for your help. Now get out of here yourself. You've got things you need to be doing," she says, pushing me gently.

Dragonsreach doesn't fall to awe me once more. Hadvar is equally affected, and if I didn't have my arm laced through his, one of us might have ran into one of the massive supports holding the palace up. "Come on, we gotta go see Farengar," I whisper, tugging at his arm. He blinks, and looks back down at me. "Of course, Thena. Lead the way," he says. I grin, and try to walk purposefully towards the wizard's little shop with minimal gawking.

"Ah, might dungeon-delver, you have returned! Do you have the Dragonstone with you?" Farengar asks, a teasing smile on his face. A small woman in hooded leather armor is standing behind him, in the shadows of the room. "I do. You know, I'm almost convinced you sent me in there to die. Hadvar and I both barely made it out of that barrow," I complain, easing my pack gently onto the desk. It takes both hands to pull out the Dragonstone and present it to Farengar, but the man seems fascinated. "You ran into trouble?" he asks, a frown on his face as he accepts the stone. "Not anything that the two of us couldn't eventually best. It took us awhile, and gods we were filthy afterwards, but we did it," I say proudly, glancing up at Hadvar. He moves closer, putting one of his hands on my hips. "You two went into Bleak Falls Barrow alone and got the Dragonstone?" the woman asks. Her voice is vaguely familiar, but I can't seem to place it. "Aye, we did," I answer. "I'm impressed," she praises.

Irileth runs in before I can answer. "Farengar! Come quickly! There's been a dragon sighted at the Western Watchtower. And you, Athena, come as well. You have more experience fighting these things. Bring your friend if you must," she says, and runs off, Farengar hot on her heels. I freeze for a moment, and I can feel Hadvar stiffen behind me. "It's okay," he whispers, his breath skating down the back of my neck, "we can do this." We run after them. As we come up the stairs, we catch the tail-end of the guard's report. "Go, get some rest. You've earned it," Balgruuf tells him. The Jarl turns to me. "You've done a lot for Whiterun already, but I need you again. Go with Irileth. Help in anyway you can. I'd welcome your friend's help too, even if he is with the Legion. I have another reward for you, a circlet with the same health enchantment that was on the armor I gave you. I have one for your friend too, I hear he helped you. There's no time to stand on ceremony right now, but I have instructed my steward to allow you to purchase property in the Hold if you wish. Now, go, help Irileth," he says. I take only a moment to jam the circlet onto my head, Hadvar doing the same, and then we chase after the Dunmer woman.

She's standing by the gates, giving a speech to her guards when we catch her. "Get some arrows," I hiss at Hadvar, pushing him in the direction of War-Maiden's, shoving a coinpurse into his hand. I stand halfway in between Irileth and Hadvar as he makes the purchase, and then he's back, two quivers full of steel arrows, just as Irileth turns to go. We follow, and for the second time that day I curse that my legs are so short.

When we reach the Watchtower, it's already in ruins. The fires are still burning, and there's a matching burn in my lungs. "There's no sign of any dragon here now, but it sure looks like he's been here. Fan out, search for survivors," she orders, and then Hadvar and I are off again. He's got one arm halfway around my waist, pulling me along with him, towards the tower itself. "If there's a survivor, that's where they'll be at," he says, and I nod my agreement as I suck in air desperately. The fires remind me dangerously of Helgen, and I have to blink hard to keep from seeing the destruction once more.

There's a guard crouched in the tower's entrance. "No! Go back! Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!" he calls out. I look up at Hadvar, to ask him what to do, and then I hear the shout that makes dread pool in my stomach. "Kynareth, save us, here he comes again!" I force myself to take another breath, fighting against the rising panic. I pulled my bow out, stepping away from Hadvar as the beast swoops towards us. Fire rains down, missing us by inches. "Stay alive. I'll kill you if you die," I yell at Hadvar, and then turn my attention from him and focus on firing arrow after arrow into the dragon's thick hide. "Aim for the wings!" Hadvar calls, and I have no idea if any of the other guards hear him.

The dragon turns to me, and I dive into cover, knocking into Hadvar as the fire streams past inches from the stone. I let out a hiss as the steel armor heats up. If I'm not careful, I'll end up cooked alive in my own armor. As soon as the fire stops, I jump out of cover again, firing once more. The dragon lands in the center of the destruction, letting out a roar as a challenge. I drop my bow to the ground, charging forward with my sword. Already, the other guards are swarming the dragon. It picks one up in it's mouth, and he screams as the dragon tosses him around. I let out a screech of fury, and charge, my sword sinking into the dragon's wing and ripping the thin membrane. He lets out another roar and turns to me. Fire streams from his mouth, and I can't get out of the way. I let out a scream as I fall to my knees, and the Hadvar jumps onto the dragon's head. "No!" I cry out, reaching for him, as he drives his sword into the dragon's skull. The dragon thrashes, and then collapses, Hadvar sliding off of him safely to land next to me. I look up at him, and then the dragon's corpse starts to dissolve. I let out a wordless gasp that was meant to be another scream, and then power is filling me.

It is warm, and my blood sings in response. This is like nothing I had ever experienced before. My vision goes white from the pleasure, and I think, somewhere in the back of my mind, that this is what all those terrible books say sex is like. The pain melts away, and all that's left is the raw power, and even that begins to ebb away. As it does, I understand the wall I'd seen in the Barrow. "FUS!" I cry, and the bones in front of my tremble. I shudder, and then Hadvar catches me. The pain slams into me once more, white-hot and burning. I let out a whimper that might have been a sob as he presses a healing potion against my lips. "Drink," he whispers, and I have just enough left in me to let my mouth fall open.

The pain fades somewhat. I notice a pile of coins and gems in the middle of the dragon's skeleton. Everyone else is cheering, or talking amongst themselves, so I crawl forward a few feet and scoop them into my hand. Hadvar is there, again, and he helps me place them carefully in my coinpurse. "What was that?" I ask, my voice hoarse. "I...don't know. There are legends...but legends can't be real, can they?" he asks. I let out a low groan in my throat, leaning against him.

"Athena?" comes a voice. I look up, my eyes focusing on Irileth. "What is it? Is there something else?" I ask. "You still need healing. Go back to Whiterun. You and Hadvar can report to the Jarl, and you can see a healer, okay? Can you walk?" she asks. "Hadvar can help me," I manage, and then Irileth is gone to see to her men.

Hadvar helps me stand, his touch gentle. "We should get you out of that armor. We can come back for it later, but it'll only make your wounds worse," he says. I nod, and his fingers are at the straps and buckles, and soon I'm standing in my underclothes. "Irileth, can someone else carry Athena's armor back to Whiterun? It was irritating the burns on her arms," he calls. "I'll make sure it gets done," the housecarl promises, and Hadvar and I limp back to Whiterun.

A noise like thunder splits the air as we push open the gates of Whiterun. "DOVAHKIIN," it seems to say. My knees buckle, and Hadvar has to catch me. "Come on," he murmurs, sliding his arm under my legs and lifting me effortlessly. "Did you hear that, or was that just me?" I ask, looking blearily up at him. "I heard it, but don't concern yourself with it. We'll report in, and get Farengar to help you. He has to have some potions and things," Hadvar murmurs. Each step he takes is agony, but it hurts less than walking myself, and I let myself sag against him.

"The Jarl has been waiting for you," Proventus says anxiously as Hadvar approaches. "What news have you?" Balgruuf asks as Hadvar comes to a stop in front of his throne, helping me to my feet. "The Watchtower was destroyed, but the dragon is dead," he reports. "Is there anything else?" he asks. "When the dragon died...something happened. I...took something from it. The corpse disintegrated. Only the bones are left," I chime in. "So it's true. You're Dragonborn, like in the legends. That noise you heard as you came back to Whiterun? That was the Greybeards calling you from High Hrothgar," he tells me. I mumble something unintelligible under my breath, and Hadvar has to support most of my weight once more. "Regardless of the Greybeards, I name you, Athena, Thane of Whiterun. Tonight, you and your companion can stay in the palace. You can go see Farengar, and he will heal you as best as he can. Proventus will arrange your room while you're being healed, and there will be spare changes of clothes for both of you. The maids will also draw up baths for the both of you," Balgruuf says, and Hadvar thanks him as he leads me away.

Farengar works on healing me for the better part of an hour. "It's a wonder you made it out of there alive, Athena," he remarked. "Hadvar saved me, I think," I answer, leaning my head back to look up at him. He smiles tiredly at me as Farengar sits back. "That's all I can do for you. Your hair is somewhat singed, but there's nothing I can do for that. You will have scars, and the skin may be tender for a few days, but you'll live. Now, go take baths, both of you, and get some rest," the wizard instructs. Just outside his office, a maid waits. "I will take you to your room. There is a bath drawn up in it. You can take one together, or when one of you finishes, call for one of us and we'll bring in fresh water," she tells us, leading us up the stairs. "What about a change of clothes?" I ask, wearily. "There is a set for each of you on the edge of the bed," she promises.

I tried to insist that Hadvar bathe first, but he wouldn't hear it. "You can barely walk up the stairs. We'll take one together, and that way I can make sure you don't drown," he insists. He helps me out of the scraps of clothing I'm wearing, and helps me as I lower myself into the tub. "If I weren't so tired, I'd be making a joke about how it's a little too early for you to see my naked," I mumble, reaching for the soap. Hadvar laughs. "I'd say we know each other well enough. We've survived two dragon attacks," he says, slipping into the water behind me. His arms wrap around my waist as he takes the soap from me gently. "Let me," he insists. I lean back against him as he washes me. I really should have insisted we bathe separately, but I doubted I could have managed by myself. Farengar may have healed me, but I was so tired that I was clumsy. As it was, I nodded off several times before Hadvar finished washing the both of us.

He got out first, wrapped a towel around him. He stayed just behind me, and I think he kept his gaze averted, although my head was drooping downwards as I struggled to keep my eyes open. "No going to sleep in the water, Thena, remember?" he says, reaching down to pull me up. He wraps another towel around me, and uses another to dry my hair. I groan under my breath.

I manage to dress myself and crawl under the covers as Hadvar drags the wooden tub out of our room. He returns, closing the door behind him, and crawls into bed next to me. We both fall asleep almost instantly.

 ** _A/N: Am I rushing things here? Should I have had them been more awkward? Idk, but Athena was almost dead from being so tired and Hadvar had assumed the role of caretaker. I hope it wasn't too unrealistic._**

 ** _Also, in terms of romance, I don't know who Athena's going to end up with. In the original story, she married Farkas, but, well, this is a complete and total revamp and I might not keep it that way. Let me know what you guys think and want to see!_**


	7. Chapter 7

I wake up late the next morning. Hadvar had woken long ago, and he was moving around the room when I opened my eyes. The sunlight streamed in, and the room was pleasantly warm. I stretched, testing my muscles. They were sore, but the pain was manageable. "I didn't think you were ever going to wake up," Hadvar teases. "I don't think I want to," I answer. "So, what are we going to do now? The Jarl doesn't have any pressing needs for us to take care of for him, and you still need more money for a house, don't you?" he asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed. I prop myself up on the pillows. "The first time I came to Whiterun, I helped some Companions fight a giant. One of them, Aela, suggested I join them. I might do that. Maybe you could help me on some of the jobs. After all we've gone through, my home is your home, and I'm sure they have more dangerous jobs than Bleak Falls Barrow," I say, propping my head up on my arms. "Maybe so," he answers, an easy grin on his face. "At any rate, we should get up and get dressed. I kind of want to get back to Riverwood and let Ralof and Hamming know, but that's a lot of walking," I sigh, sitting up and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, it is. I'm going to have to go back to Solitude at one point, too. I won't have them say I'm a deserter," Hadvar says. I freeze, reaching for my boot. "Shit, I'd forgotten all about that," I mutter. He reaches out hesitantly, his hand on my arm. "It'll be hard to fight when I've got friends on the other side. I might...I might retire, soon," he says. "Oh, I don't know. With a Dragonborn on your side, if I really am one, the war might be over soon," I say, a slow grin spreading across my face. "Would you fight for the Imperials?" he asks me, turning to look at me. I lean my chin on his shoulder. "No. I would fight for peace. Perhaps the word of a legend could make some changes. Besides, Ulfric isn't the real threat," I tell him. He wraps one arm around my waist, pulling me against him. "Who's the real threat, then?" he asks me. "The Aldmeri Dominion, of course. They're the entire reason we're in this mess," I explain. "I have no doubts that you're wrong, Thena. But we'll take it one step at a time. Either we take on some bounties the Jarl has out, or you go join the Companions," he says.

"I suppose it's the Companions. Will you come with me? Maybe wait outside?" I ask, sitting up again. "Of course. I hope you get in. The Companions are honorable people," he answers. "I don't know much about honor," I admit. Hadvar bumps his shoulder against mine. "Always time for you to learn, little Breton," he tells me. "Hey, I'm not that little!" I protest, standing up. The steel armor had been brought in during the night, and was laying carefully on the table beside the door. It was scuffed terrible, and some of it scorched, but it was still serviceable. I sent a silent prayer of thanks to the gods. If Alvor hadn't talked me into the steel armor, the dragon would have killed me. "Oh, please. Hamming is almost taller than you," Hadvar says, laughing. "I'm just the right height to kick you where it hurts," I threaten. Hadvar moves behind me, wrapping his arms around me. He rests his chin easily on the top of my head. "That just means you're short," he says. I let out a playful growl, dropping the gauntlet I had in my hand. It clattered to the floor, forgotten, as I twisted away from him. "You're going to get it, Mister!" I threatened, launching myself forward. I knocked Hadvar back onto the bed, both of us laughing so hard it almost hurt. I pinned his arms above his head, my knees on either side of his waist. His eyes gleamed with mischief, and that was the only warning I had before he flipped us over, trapping me in the same position.

I was so much smaller than him, though. His hand closed around my wrists easily. I let out a heavy sigh of defeat, holding my hand up to his. It was nearly twice as large. He linked his fingers through mine and smiled softly. "I don't think I want to go back to fighting," he murmurs, still hovering over me, one hand resting on my wrist. "The life of a soldier will take a lot out of a man," I agree, my voice soft. "I just wanted to do some good for the Empire," Hadvar says. I sit up gently, easing up until Hadvar is almost sitting in my lap. I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close. "I'll change things. That's what Dragonborns do, isn't it?" I say, resting the side of my face against his chest. His heartbeats thrum in my ears. "I hope so, Athena," Hadvar whispers, his voice breaking. I sit back, tilting my head up to meet his eyes. "Then go retire. I'll talk Ralof into doing the same. Hide out in Riverwood. I'll...I'll get a house first, for you and Ralof and Hamming and me, and then I'll go to the Greybeards. They'll teach me how to be Dragonborn, and then I will turn into a force the Aldmeri Dominion fears and this stupid civil war will be over," I say, fiercely. "That's very idealistic of you," Hadvar says. "I am a very idealistic woman. Sometimes, though, that's what the world needs," I reply. Hadvar curls his fingers in mine again. "You might just persuade me into being idealistic with you," he whispers.

All I have to wear is my armor, and the outfit the Jarl leant me to sleep in, so that's what I wear when I go to talk to Proventus. I had carefully counted out my coin, and Hadvar had added what he had to it. All together, we had just short of three thousand septims. The house was going to be more than that, I was sure. Much more. "Thane Athena. Are you leaving for High Hrothgar soon?" Proventus asks. Hadvar isn't with me, and for a moment I desperately wish he were. "That depends. Do you have any property in the city for sale?" I ask. "Yes. A house right by the gates. Breezehome. It is five thousand septims," he answers. Dammit, I was two thousand short. "Do you have any other property anywhere in the hold with a house on it? A farm would be ideal, if you have one," I say. I must have sounded desperate. "There's a parcel of land near Rorikstead, just off the road. The house there is falling apart, there's not much land that comes with it. How much coin do you have?" he asks. I glance at the Jarl's throne. "All together, with my friend, we have two thousand, nine hundred, and seventy-eight septims," I answer, twisting my fingers together. Proventus takes a deep breath. "What kind of house do you need?" he asks me. "I...do you want me to go into detail?" I ask. "Not too much, but how many rooms?" he asks. I pause, thinking to myself and counting on my fingers. "Let's see...three bedrooms...a combined living room and kitchen...a small washroom...maybe a cellar," I mumble. "I'll go speak to the Jarl. Please, have a seat while you wait," Proventus says, gesturing. I smile gratefully and sink into a seat, nervously drumming my fingers on the tabletop.

After what feels like hours of waiting, Proventus returns, and slides into the seat across from me. "I can make a deal I think you'll appreciate. We can get you a completely unfurnished house like you want, along with the deed to the land, for two thousand dollars. That leaves the rest for you to furnish the house with. We want you to get to High Hrothgar as soon as possible. One doesn't ignore the summons of the Greybeards," he tells me gently. I toss a coinpurse to him. "Go get the paperwork. I have loose ends to tie up before I can make the journey. How long will it be before the house will be finished?" I ask, as Proventus pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket and spreads it out on the table. "I'll try to arrange it so that it can be built before winter sets in. I'll make sure it's properly built. Is this suitable for you, Thane?" he asks. "Of course. Go get a quill and ink, and I'll sign for it and hand over the coin," I reply.

Within minutes, the contract is signed, and my coinpurse is two thousand septims lighter. I head out of the palace and down to the Gildergreen. Hadvar had promised me he'd be waiting on one of the benches underneath the dead tree, and sure enough, there he was. "Well, what happened?" he asked, nearly standing as he saw me approaching. I jogged the last few feet and stood in front of him, reaching out to lace my fingers through his. Now, away from the palace and stifling magnificence of it all, I was excited. "I didn't get a house in the city. There's some land near Rorikstead, right off the road, Proventus marked it on my map. He said there's an old shack that's falling apart on the land. He talked to the Jarl, and they took two thousand dollars to fix the place up. The rest is to buy furniture when they get it fixed. Proventus hopes to have it fixed by winter. He asked me about floor plans, but we didn't discuss that too thoroughly. Balgruuf has given me a housecarl, Lydia, and I told her all I wanted were two ground floors, with the bedrooms on top. I said I'd let her design it properly, because I wasn't going to be traveling with her for awhile. So I guess it's off to Riverwood after all," I say, and I can't stop grinning.

Hadvar grins too, as I tell him. "I suppose Hamming and Ralof would like to know. And you have a war to talk Ralof out of, if you can," Hadvar answers, his head tilted up as I lean against our clasped hands. For a brief moment, I find myself wanting to kiss him. I pull back gently. "Let's head out now. If we hurry, we can make it back in time for supper," I say. Hadvar stands, not letting go of my hand, and leads the way out of the city.

Hamming is surprised, when I tell him about the house. Everyone knows the Jarl practically gave it to me. And even in Riverwood, they had begun to treat me with much more respect. Word apparently travels fast among the guards. Ralof is pleased about the house, but he won't back down. "I can't abandon Ulfric's cause. I served with him personally. You were at Helgen, you know that. I...it's good, that Hadvar is going to retire. That way, the two of us won't meet on the battlefield. But I can't abandon Ulfric," he told me. I cross my arms, leaning against the door frame even though it dug uncomfortably into my hip. "Then stay in Riverwood until winter passes, at least. Give me time. If they Greybeards train me enough, if I make a name for myself, I might be able to...do something. Please, Ralof. I want to keep you out of the fighting. I understand that you don't want to retire, but, please stay here until spring," I beg, looking at him the best puppy dog eyes I can manage. After a long moment, Ralof sighs heavily. "Okay. The Imperials are still looking around. Ulfric won't fight any battles until spring, anyway. But I'm only doing this for you, Athena," Ralof says. I smile, throw myself off of the door, and cross the room in a few steps. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, resting my cheek against his. "Thank you," I whisper.

I spend three days in Riverwood. I use some of the coin I have left to buy warm travel clothing. I buy the warmest I can find, and I sell some of the things in my pack that I don't need. I stock up on provisions. Proventus had marked my new land on my map, and I take the time while packing to show Hadvar, Ralof, and Hamming the location. Ralof tells me it's about a twenty minute walk from Rorikstead proper. Alvor tells me that, if the land is where he thinks it is, it'll be good farming land. Gerdur promises to give me a proper housewarming party, and I thank them all. "I would like to make the pilgrimage up the seven thousand steps," Hadvar says, before I leave. "Would that cause problems with you still being in the Legion?" I ask. Hadvar paused for a moment, contemplating. "We can stop by Solitude first, if that's okay," he says. "Of course it's okay. Do you think it would be safe enough for Hamming to come along if we stick to the main roads?" I ask. He wraps one arm around my waist. "Probably. He survived a dragon attack with us. Ask him if he wants to come along with us," Hadvar answers.

Hamming is happy that I offered, although he turns down the opportunity. "Ralof has been teaching me how to use a sword. Maybe when I get better, I can come with you," he says. The next morning, before dawn, I kiss him on the forehead while he sleeps, and meets Hadvar outside. Ralof stands with him, dressed in travel gear with a pack of his own. "I couldn't turn it down," he says. I look at him, one eyebrow raised. "What about Hamming? He's looking forward to his lessons," I say, the words breaking the still silence of the morning. "I arranged for Gerdur to continue them with the boy. It's all taken care of," he promises me, "besides, Ivarstead is in Stormcloak territory." I can't argue with that, so after a few moments, we take off, with Ralof leading the way.


	8. Chapter 8

It was cold when we left. I hadn't prepared myself for the cold, not well enough. All I had was a light cloak and my armor, and paid for it dearly. I shivered until well past midday, my teeth clacking together, and after the first hour, Ralof and Hadvar took pity on me and walked as close as they could, warmth radiating from them. Still, I was cold, bundled up in my cloak. "I hate Skyrim. Why couldn't my father be from Hammerfell?" I grumbled at one point. "Well then you wouldn't be you," Ralof pointed out. "I'd be fine with that for several reasons," I returned, which eventually turned into a game of 'what would you change about your life if you only got one thing to change.' 

* * *

When we camped, I sat so close to the fire Ralof teased me about falling in. "It wouldn't be the first time I was on fire," I retort. He laughs, nudging me away from the fire, and then wraps three blankets around me, tucking me in. "I have ever mentioned how much I hate Skyrim?" I ask. "Oh, what's not to love? There's angry people, angry dragons, and a beautiful landscape that'll turn you into an icicle," Hadvar jokes. I snort, curling up on myself tighter. "It was warmer in High Rock. I miss it," I sigh wistfully. "Tell us about High Rock. We've stayed in Skyrim our whole lives, never done any traveling," Hadvar prods. The rest of the evening is passed with me telling them everything I could about my home. 

* * *

It's a blessing, in my mind, when we reach Dragon Bridge, and I make a beeline for the inn. "We could make good time to Solitude, be there before nightfall if we keep going," Ralof points out. "Not until I thaw out," I answer, and the door of the inn closes softly behind me. The innkeeper is a pleasant girl, and she makes idle conversation as I sit down at the bar, still far too cold for comfort. I end up renting two rooms. Two of us will have to share, but that's all they had available, and more importantly, it was all I could afford. I dumped my things on the bed in one of the rooms, and by the time I'd gotten settled in, Hadvar and Ralof had finally entered and took a seat at the table in the far corner of the room.

I joined them, and the innkeeper was kind enough to send someone over to take our orders. While we waited, we talked about the trip up the seven thousand steps to the monastery. We decided we'd take two days and stock up with whatever we could from the small, one-room shack that served as a general store in Ivarstead. I had no idea how long the pilgrimage would take once we started up the mountain, but I knew it would be even colder than the trek to Solitude, and probably even the trek to Ivarstead proper. Hopefully the general store would have a thicker cloak and a warmer outfit.

After eating, the first thing I did was sink into a bath. The water was just short of scalding hot, and I reveled in it. I scrubbed the dirt and grime from traveling off of my skin and out of my hair, and then I relaxed in the water, letting it work out the kinks and knots in my muscles from sleeping on the hard ground. When the water was almost cold, I hauled myself out and patted myself dry with one of the scratchy towels the inn provided. I squeezed the water out of my hair, and then I dressed myself in the soft blue robes that I usually wore to sleep.

Whenever I exited the bathing room, Hadvar was still outside, although he was alone now. He looked up when I entered the inn's common room, giving me a crooked grin. "Hey. Ralof already took one of the rooms. Do you want to share with me, or are you dooming me to sleep with him?" he asks. I sit down, pulling my armor onto my lap before answering. "I think I could share, if you could be persuaded to share your body heat," I say, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. "I think I can manage that," he responds, almost playfully. "Then we have a deal," I tell him, grinning at him before I begin cleaning my armor. It's still scratched and scuffed, and I hope I can make it look a little more presentable. My travel gear had been safely stashed away in my pack before I'd bathed, and after a few moments, Hadvar pulled some of the armor onto his lap and started helping me.

"You know, I should probably thank your uncle. Without this armor, that dragon would have killed me," I say, casually. Hadvar stills for a moment. "You know, a lot of things could have killed you, even with that armor on. I think it was just sheer, dumb luck that saved you," he replied. "Aw, I'm glad you have so much faith in me," I say, a teasing lilt to my tone. I nudge him with my knee to let him know I'm only joking, and he shakes his head fondly. "Even the most skilled can meet an unfortunate end," he points out. "Yeah, you may have a point there," I concede. We spend a few more minutes scrubbing at the steel before I decide it's not helping.

"Why don't we just go on to bed?" I suggest. "I think that's a fine idea. It's getting late," Hadvar agrees, and I collect the armor, leading the way into the room we'd rented. Hadvar settles himself on the bed, one side pressed against the wall while I tuck the armor into my pack neatly, carefully, and then I join him, pulling the blankets up over us both. I lean over and blow out the candle, sending us into darkness, and then I curl up on my side, facing Hadvar. He pulls me closer, shifting so I can curl against him. "Wouldn't want you freezing to death on me," he murmurs, his voice soft against my ear, and a few minutes later we are both asleep. 

* * *

The next morning, we leave early, just before dawn breaks over the horizon. Faida, the innkeeper, had winked at me and told me to come back soon, her voice far too breathy. I nodded, smiled, and told her I'd try my best, and then I'd had to jog to keep up with Hadvar and Ralof. When I finally caught up to them, Ralof slung his arm around my shoulder. "So, what's the plan when we get to Solitude?" I ask, shifting my pack carefully on my shoulders. "You and Ralof can stock up on supplies while I go to Castle Dour and officially retire from the Legion. Divines, after that dragon attack at Helgen, I can blame it on trauma and get away with it," he says. "Right, makes sense. So, afterwards, can we come back through Dragon Bridge?" I ask. Ralof shoots me a sideways glance. "Why would you want to do that? It's not the quickest way to get to Ivarstead, not by a long shot," he points out, a gleam in his eyes. "She wants a quick fuck with the innkeeper," Hadvar says, smirking.

"Hey!" I protest, leaning around Ralof to glare at Hadvar. "Am I wrong?" he asks, a wicked grin on his face. "Well, no, not exactly, but you don't need to sound so crude!" I say, indignantly. Ralof laughs, ruffling my hair. "She's right, Hadvar, can't have you offending her delicate sensibilities," he teases. "You two are assholes," I complain, and after a few more minutes of back-and-forth remarks, we lapse into silence. 

* * *

We reach Solitude around midday, and Hadvar leaves us to our own devices. "Don't let him do anything stupid," he warns me, and then he's gone, leaving us in the bright sun. I shield my eyes as I turn to Ralof, squinting against the bright sun. "Should we try to find a store that sells traveling supplies?" I ask, shuffling closer to him as the people walk past us on all sides. "Yeah, that'd be best," he says, leaning down a little. I link my arm through his and let him lead the way, guiding me through the crowd. He can see more than I can, anyway.

"So, about that innkeeper in Dragon Bridge; do you prefer women?" he asks, guiding me to the side of the street, where there is less people, a shit-eating grin on his face. "I like women. I like men, too. I like people who aren't either," I reply, dodging a lady who's standing there, peering up at a sign. It's for an apothecary, so I don't bother to stop. "Oh?" Ralof said, and from the expression on his face I can tell that he's not going to stop grilling me. "My, ah, first time was with a woman. You get curious and you get bored when you live in a farm. She was a sweet girl. Really, we were just fumbling around in the barn, but it was...nice. There was a neighbor boy, too. One summer all three of us, ah, got to know each other," I say, and I can feel the tips of my ears turning red. "Well, well. Our little Athena isn't as innocent as she seems," Ralof says, laughter in his voice. "I am not responding to that remark, or we will never find the shop," I say stoically, although I can feel my face burning from embarrassment and I can't stop myself from checking to see if anyone overheard.

We find the store pretty easily, actually, and Ralof lets me do all the bartering while he hangs back. I get a few more supplies, enough to last us until Ivarstead hopefully, and I trade in my cloak for a thicker, warmer one lined with fur. Afterwards, Ralof and I head back to the inn we saw, and we split a bottle of wine while we wait for Hadvar. It's not long until he returns, officially retired, and he has leather armor instead of the armor he'd been wearing previously. "Tullius was sad to see me go, but he was thoughtful enough to give me a new set of leather armor. If you want to make it to Dragon Bridge before nightfall, we should head out," he says. We hand him the wine bottle and the rest of its contents wordlessly, and I lead the way out of the inn and to the gates. One of the guards leers at me, but Hadvar's arm around my waist keeps the man's mouth shut. I doubt my glare would have deterred him, nor the weapons strapped to my waist.

We make it to Dragon Bridge just as the sun goes down, and the innkeeper gives me a soft, secretive smile. "It's good to see you again, Athena," she purrs, running her fingers along the back of my hand. "The pleasure is all mine, Faida. My friends and I need places to stay for the night. Can you set us up?" I ask, my voice silky soft, a pleasant grin on my face. "Of course. You're all paid up for the night. If you'd like to bunk with me, well, my offer is open," she murmured, leaning close to me. "I'd like that," I answer. She puts one arm around my waist. "You boys can have the same rooms you had last time," she calls out, and then she's dragging me towards her bedroom, and closing the door behind us. 

* * *

_**A/N: This took way long for me to get out and wow it's not as long as I thought it was, but here it is. I'm back, bitches. Well, for now. I'm not sure for how long. Also, I'm sure you're not bitches, and I'm sure you're all wonderful and lovely people. But! The point is, I got out a new chapter of this finally and I'll continue until I'm done. This is sort of a filler chapter, and I'd almost made it so that they went straight to Ivarstead but then I remembered that Hadvar wanted to go to Solitude and retire and so here we are, with Athena having casual lesbian sex with the innkeeper.**_

 _ **So, in the original, she married Farkas and started with the Companions questline. However, she's obviously going to start with the main quest, and I think she might marry Sylgia in Shor's Stone. Or anyone else, if you have suggestions. Or she might not get married at all. Who knows? Not me probably.  
**_


	9. Chapter 9

We didn't leave Dragon Bridge until close to noon. I'd been…busy with Faida until late in the morning, and then we'd all eaten and gathered our tings and before we knew it the sun was directly overhead, beating down on us as we walked, with the small village disappearing on the horizon. "You're taking quite a bit of our travel time, you know," Ralof teased, bumping into me gently as we walked. I roll my eyes. "Oh, shut up. You'd have done the same had someone caught your interest," I reply, a faint smile on my face. "Oh, my darling Athena, we wouldn't have done so while we had somewhere to be," Hadvar says, butting in and throwing his arm around my shoulders. I can tell they're both going to tease me about this for a long time yet. "Well, if one is going off to their world-saving destiny like I am, they must take their pleasure where they can," I answer. "Oh? Why's that?" Ralof asked, an amused grin on his face.

"I've read enough stories to know that something like this can only end with a tragedy," I answer, and while I'd meant for the words to come out light and carefree, they left me with a curling weight in the pit of my stomach. Chances are this wouldn't go well. Dragons were returning, I was the last Dragonborn, and those two things didn't add up to something pretty. "It is a good thing this isn't a story, then. This is going to play out quite differently, just you wait," Hadvar says gently, removing his arm from around my shoulder and linking his fingers with mine.

"And tell me, how's this going to play out?" I ask, and this time there is a playful tone to my voice. "Well, you're going to do whatever it is you need to and save the world in some great and impossible battle. Then, once you're healed up from the battle, there'll be celebrations that you couldn't even begin to dream of. Afterwards, you'll be able to live a normal life and be able to do wonderful things and you'll wonder how it's not all so very dull to you after saving the world," he tells me, but something in his words feels hollow. I grin wryly, squeezing his hand gently to let him know I appreciated the gesture. "Well, perhaps you should start planning then. I'm dreadfully hard to impress," I say. Ralof snorts before he can help himself. "You didn't seem so hard to impress last night, if the sounds were any indication," he tells me, and the conversation shifts and fades as my cheeks turn pink.

* * *

We make good time to Ivarstead, despite the delays. The weather is good and for the first few days we push ourselves harder than necessary to make up for lost time. Ivarstead is a small little village, warmer than it was up in Solitude but still cold. The mountain casts a shadow over everything in the town, and there's few people and fewer things. It was clear that most people only stopped through on their way up to High Hrothgar. We arrived at dusk, so we decided pretty quickly that we'd spend the night in the inn before heading up the mountain.

The room is cheap and the beds are uncomfortable, but it's warm and dry and better than camping on the mountainside. We'd all piled into the same room, Ralof and Hadvar taking the beds at my insistence. I don't get a lot of sleep, nervous about what's going to happen when I get to the top of that mountain. I know that no matter what does happen, it'll be the start of something I'll have no control over.

When morning rolls around we eat, like usual, but we leave most of our unnecessary gear at the inn. The innkeeper promises to look after it for us once we pay a small fee, and once we're geared up we head out towards the bridge. "Are you ready for this, Athena?" Hadvar asks quietly as we walk through the town. "I…don't know. I hope so," I answer worriedly, adjusting my gauntlets for the fifteenth time. He wraps one arm around me, pulling me into a brief hug. "It'll be all right. It's just some old men on a mountaintop," he says, a soft smile on his face. At least he's trying to cheer me up.

At the bridge, there's a man talking to an elf. "Excuse me, you said you had supplies to take to the Greybeards?" I ask. "Yes, ma'am, I did, but my old bones don't feel like making the journey today," he says, respectfully. "I could take them for you. I'm heading up there anyway, and it'll get the supplies there and save you a trip," I offer. He smiles at me, patting me on the shoulder. "You're a good lass. I'll pay you for your troubles when you get back," he says, and he shrugs the rucksack off of his shoulders before passing it over. It's heavier than I expected, but I shoulder it easily. I say a quick goodbye to the man and then we're off again. "You can't help but help people, can you?" Ralof asks. I shake my head slightly. "No, I guess I can't. I know what it's like to feel helpless. I'd like to ease that for anyone else that I can," I answer, softly. He shoots me a glance. "Just be sure that those people won't chew you up and spit you out," he warns, like I don't know how cruel people are. We lapse into silence, then, content to focus on climbing upwards.

* * *

Halfway up the mountain, it starts to snow. Despite hating the cold, there's something about the snow that I love. It seemed that the whole world was softer and quieter when it was snowing. Thanks to my new gear, I was warm enough, too. I couldn't feel my toes or my fingertips, but that was pretty normal, actually. I always ran cold. We were still walking in silence, our breath coming quicker now. We'd set a grueling pace up the mountain. Why delay what would happen any longer?

HHHH

The monastery was beautiful. It was old and ancient and it had a majesty about it that couldn't often be found. There was a stillness, too, like if any of us spoke too loud something would shatter. Quietly, I knelt in the snow and opened the offering chest, leaving the supplies inside. I didn't want to explain to the Greybeards what I was doing with them.

With bated breath, I led the way up the stairs, easing the door open. At first, all was quiet, and then we saw one of the Greybeards approaching us. He…looked like a normal man. I don't know what I was expecting in that regard, but he bowed his head slightly in greeting.

"So, a Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age," he says, as more of his fellows join him. "I'm answering your summons," I say, softly. His hood hides most of his face, but I think I see a smile curving his lips upwards. "We will see if you truly have the gift. Let us taste of your Voice, Dragonborn," he says, and some ancient thing within me rises up to meet his call. "FUS," I Shout, and they stumble backwards under the force of it. "Dragonborn. It is you. Welcome to High Hrothgar," he says, his voice soft and amazed.

"I am Master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards. Now, tell me…why have you come here?" he asks, and I know it's just a test. "I am answering your summons, Master," I reply, and part of me feels as though I should be kneeling reverently. "We are honored to welcome you, Dragonborn. We will do our best to teach you how to use your gift to fulfill your destiny," he tells me. I clasp my hands together in front of me, doing my best to keep from fidgeting. "What is my destiny?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. Part of me is afraid to find out. This time, I definitely know the old man is smiling. "That is for you to discover. We are her to show you the Way, and it is up to you to find your destination," he replies. Well, that figures. Ask a question like that, and of course I'm just going to get some half-baked philosophical answer.

"I'm ready to learn," I say, after a moment. He moves around me, his hands clasped together behind his back, as if he's examining me. "You have proven that you have the innate gift. But do you have the discipline? The willpower? That remains to be seen. Without training, you have already taken the first steps towards projecting your Voice into a Thu'um. Now, let us see if you are willing and able to learn. When you Shout, you speak in the language of the dragons. As such, your Dragon Blood gives you an inborn ability to learn Words of Power. All Shouts are made up of three Words. As you master each Word, you Shout will become stronger. Master Einarth will now teach you 'Ro,' the second Word in Unrelenting Force," he says. I step back, eyeing up the man who'd joined us a few minutes ago. I'd had no idea that these lessons would be so wildly informal.

By the end of the day, I have learned the second Word of Unrelenting Force, and I have learned an entirely new Shout called Whirlwind Sprint. Hadvar and Ralof stayed by the door of the monastery the entire time I was learning, and then, at the end of it all, they told me they wanted me to travel to some tomb south of Solitude and retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. I wanted to scream. I was just in Solitude a couple weeks ago, and now we'd have to traverse that entire trail again, plus fight our way through some crypt. They were kind enough to offer us beds in the monastery for the night, and they were more than willing to share their meal, but I was still slightly bitter about this new development.

* * *

At the end of the night, I curled up in a hard, stone bed across from Hadvar. Ralof was sleeping on the other side of the room, and he was already out. It wasn't long before I, too, fell asleep, and when I did, I dreamt of Helgen. There was fire and smoke everywhere and the stench of death was heavy in the air. I was on my knees, my neck stretched out on the headsman's block, the axe raised above me, and the terror I felt was almost a real, solid thing fluttering around in my stomach. And then the dragon came, and I was running, and running and running.

I woke with a gasp, throwing the blanket off and sitting up. Hadvar shifted in his bed, looking at me sleepily. "Athena? You all right?" he asks, his voice low and husky with sleep. "Nightmare," I whisper back. It seems to take him a moment to process my reply, but then the scoots over, making room for me on the bed. "C'mere," he says. I hesistate for a moment before joining him. The dream had shaken me up more than I was willing to admit, and the fear eased as Hadvar wrapped his arms around my waist, clumsily stroking my arm in what was a valiant attempt at comfort. "Sorry for waking you," I whisper, shifting until we're both comfortable. "S'okay," he answered, nuzzling his head against my neck. Within minutes, he fell asleep again.

It took me a little longer to drift off, but as I lay there, listening to the sound of his breathing, I eventually fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Sorry that it's taking me so long to write this. I don't play Skyrim much anymore, and as a result I've been focusing on my other fics. However, thank you all for your continued interest in this story despite me sucking so much at updating. You're all great for that. I would like to state, here and now, that this is a rough draft. Once it's finished I will go back and edit it all and compile it into something that's less of a hot mess than this is.**_

 _ **Please feel free (actually, this is encouraged) to comment with your thoughts, opinions, and where you want this to go. The plot is, well, let's be real, fleshed out only as much as the game is. I'd love some suggestions or even just how you feel about where we are currently in this fic. (Also, if you have something you'd like to see show up in this, if I can work it in at all, I'll usually do it. So like, this is encouraged behavior. Don't be shy; don't hold back.)  
Thanks, guys, and I'll see you next time! (Which will hopefully come a lot sooner than the next times have been coming.)**_


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